Crooked Man
by SugoiSummoner
Summary: Max was eleven years old when her mother was killed by the monster in her closet. He is called the Crooked Man. He came for her, and now he's coming for you. Consider yourself warned.


The Crooked Man. A simple children's poem. Little did I know, that it would be the end of everything I knew and loved. For whoever is reading this, consider yourself warned.

He's coming.

Max POV:

"Honey, there's nothing in the closet." My mom assured me, stroking my hair.

"No no no Mom you don't understand, he was there, the Crooked Man! Like he always is!" I shook my head in frustration. "Why do you never believe me?"

"I just think that you're too old to be making things up like this Max, you're almost eleven."

"I'm not making it up!"

She sighed.

"Whatever you say. I'm going to bed now, okay?"

"Mom, he's going to get you if you're not careful! Don't leave me!"

"Max, for the last time, the Crooked Man does not exist!" she shouted out me suddenly, making me flinch away. "He's just a character, in a poem meant for five year olds. You are too old for this nonsense, do you understand me?"

Tears were welling up in my eyes, but I nodded. I knew she didn't believe me.

She took a deep breath and pushed her brown hair back with one hand, planting the other on her hip.

"Maxine, if you breathe another word of this, I will ground you for a month." I saw her jaw clench before she swept out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

I cried for hours, smothering the sound in my pillows.

Later, around 3 am, I was still sniffling when I heard the floorboards outside my door creak. I sat up, half of me expecting my mother and the other half expecting the Crooked Man.

But my door didn't open, and a few moments later I heard the floor creak again, further down the hall.

I frowned and slowly climbed out of bed. Who was in the house? Should I look?

I bit my lips and padded across the room, easing the door open at exactly the right speed to avoid creaking. Swallowing hard, I leaned into the hallway.

Just in time to see my mom's bedroom door swing shut.

Maybe it was just her, getting up for a drink of water. I had to make sure, just in case. At the back of my mind, I remembered that I hadn't seen the Crooked Man yet tonight.

I sprinted quickly and quietly down the hall, my light body not making the floorboards creak.

Her door wasn't all the way closed, so I could edge it open without turning the knob.

My scream froze in my throat.

My mother was splayed across her bed, her brown hair fanning across the white sheets and her chocolate eyes frozen wide open. Her neck was broken, twisted nearly a hundred and eighty degrees.

My breath picked up, I was nearly hyperventilating. I needed to get help.

I spun around only to run into something standing right behind me.

My scream finally tore it's way free, but before it could make much of a sound, a freezing white hand was clamped over my mouth.

A rasping voice shushed me. I squeezed my eyes shut, I didn't want to look at him.

"Don't… tell…" it rasped out. Then it released me. I collapsed onto my knees, my entire body covered in cold sweat.

Finally, I gathered enough courage to look up. The Crooked Man was gone.

Finally, I screamed.

A/N: Hey there! Few updates!

So, I've decided not to continue You're No Son of Mine, I thought I was going somewhere with it, and now I'm just kinda lost, and it's not really as enjoyable to write as it used to be for me. Plus I can imagine everyone is really confused as to where it is actually going.

I am co-writing this story with my best friend, SilenceisGolden15, who is an absolutely spectacular writer and I definitely recommend her if you love Maximum Ride! At the moment she is finishing up a story of her own, ("Rebel Love Song"), so she is not going to be posting this onto her account until she has completed it, but fortunately for you guys, I will be updating it here. (: This is actually a One-Shot of hers that she wanted to expand and we kinda just said fuck it LETS DO IT. I really hope you enjoy this so far! We are having a blast writing it, and we hope you have a blast reading this as well.

Hope you enjoy!

-Isa


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